Nenya
by longlivelotr
Summary: Elves are not like men. We like to say that men are selfish and ignorant, that therefore they do not deserve to live long like us. But men are not less than elves, and there were times I wished I could live simple and love strong like men do. In those sleepless years I would lay wide awake as I replayed the scenes of my own life before my eyes, wanting to hate yet I could not.
1. Chapter 1 I Saw It Burning

chapter 1. I saw it burning

I feel the urge of telling the story to someone who is willing to listen. Someone who has the time to slow down and hear a sad, but beautiful tale. Someone who has the same immortality as the I do, someone who has the same endless life. Yet among the race of men exist no ears that listen but not only hear. Among the race of men exist no one who would trust and believe the lost stories of the past, of the rings, of the elves.

I stand before the grave of Arwen Undomiel, my beloved niece even though we share no similar blood. May her beauty last forever in this land. A gentle breeze picked up the scent of flowers blooming. Spring is arriving at last.

You would not remember my name, but you would remember the name of the ring that dominated my body and shared my soul. Who am I? Where am I from? What have I done? It is all remembered in the heart of the older ones in the name of Nenya.

But I am myself now, when the ring is no more. I will tell you my story now, from my eyes under the shell of ice. For you it may have started millions of years ago. For me, it was the fire that started it all.

When I was young, orcs dominated our woods. It felt like only years ago when I stood upon that hill and gazed down at the fire below along with my sister and brother. Together, we stood solemnly and listened to the cracking of woods burning and the screaming of the people in the forest below. In the distance I saw those creatures bringing down their axes and swords to the trees and people, then setting them all on fire. I saw the trees coming down one by one, first the youngest ones, then the older ones. First the willow by the stream, then the tall oaks that surrounded what once was our home. At last the fire reached the tallest and oldest tree of all, the one that stood for thousands of years before this demon fire that burnt it down to ash. It was the emblem of the people in these woods.

" Burn them all!" I heard a raspy voice ordering, " Burn down every house and tree!"

By my left I heard my sister weep and whisper, words choked with tears. My brother and I stood, gazing down at the sea of fire. Waves of heat baked my cheeks and dried my tears,and in my brother's eyes I saw flames flickering in the reflection of the burning trees. The screams quieted down to nothing but whimpers of the tree spirits, begging for water and life. I saw the fire creeping up the old tree, devouring its green leaves.

My brother turned me away and held my against his chest. I did not see the tree fall, but in his eyes I saw what he saw. A home burned to pieces. A nation falling down. We were the only survivors. I heard a crash and there was no more. The orcs were gone. Every one was silent.

I saw it burning, the fire burning my childhood to an end. The three of us survived. We were only ten winters old, only children in your eyes.


	2. Chapter 2 Enemy? Nah!

Chapter 2. "Enemy? Nah!"

As days grew long we three learned to put aside the painful things and survive on our own, constantly shifting from one place to another to avoid orcs hunting us. It was me who managed our food. Even though I was the youngest of the three, I had a natural gift with my bow and arrows. They were the only things that I got out from our house when the fire started burn. My brother, with a knife, stayed with and protected my sister, who cooked our food and sewed my shoes. Only I wore shoes, to protect my feet while hunting. We have decided that after the first terrible month of series of attacks.

" What have you caught?" was what my sister asked me most often when I came back from hunting every day. Usually, in my skinny hands held two or three rabbits or dragged a young deer. Such food was all we've got. She would sit in front of the fire in front of our tiny tent, built up by the burnt pieces of our old forest, easy to break down and rebuild. Over the fire she would stir a burnt spoon(found in the rubble)in a dented pot(also found in the rubble), occasionally sprinkling mashed up herbs and adding the meat to the stew. She would smile at me and take the bow and the bundle of arrows behind my back.

"I smell stew!" Then my brother would come out of the tent, sword by his side. " Rabbit…Ah, thanks lass." His crooked grin always managed to warm up my heart. In the rising heat we gathered around the pot, eating stew. We didn't talk much, savoring every taste of food. At night it was soundless and dark.

Sometimes we found ourselves staring at the glowing fire, and I knew that we were all remembering how life was years ago. Family. Lights. Laughter. I haven't laughed for a long time, but I was content with this new life. As long as I had the two of them, I felt that nothing could go wrong. Three elflings could survive on their own.

Life was slow, but dangerous. We never knew what was coming next. And we certainly didn't expect to be found. We had no extended family, and all those who befriended our parents were killed in that fire. Our country shared a complicated and historical rivalry with our neighbor, and we were smart enough not to disturb it. It was a powerful nation, and we feared its queen. Rumors had spread about a witch ruling an enchanted forest, and I had a feeling, as we were getting closer and closer to the nation, that our neighbor might be what people were talking about.

The following spring after the fire was, to be optimistic, full of life. We no longer lacked clothes to wear. Honey trickled from the combs and fish swam in the unfrozen streams. Other than that, there was deer, the food that we all had taken a liking on for its abundance of meat and other uses. We learned fast, and we turned to the wilder acts. There was no civilization to support us. Fish were eaten raw, or burned crisp in the fire without bothering to cook it in any more complicated way. Our tongues no longer longed for taste or spices. Food had become the least of our worries, for we knew that there were beasts awakening from a winter's sleep. There were the things we needed to avoid. Aside from the beasts, there were the elves.

I was out hunting one day. I knew that we were close to a nation, for there are hoof prints of horses dotting the soft ground near the places where I usually hunted. Arrows that weren't mine buried deep into the trees with metal tips. I took them out carefully and made use of them myself. There was also, to our annoyance, the clear reduction of food. The elves needed food for the nation, but we three needed food as well. We were always hungry. We started to refer to them as thieves. And I was determined that one day I shall get my revenge.

The weather grew warmer, and the air unthawed into sweet-smelling breezes. Flowers bloomed, but we no longer had the heart to admire their beauty. Everything we do is associated with feeding our stomachs. And my despise for the elves only grew due to this purpose.

My sister caught a cold at the turning of the season, and I knew that it was because of her weak body. She never had enough to eat. Neither did my brother. I was always starving. There should have been more food for all of us, if not for those pesky elves.

My eyes were blacking of hunger one day, and while I was in a tree trying to hunt, I heard the sound of hooves, so loud they scared away every bird around. I was mad. It wasn't fair. They were out hunting again, which meant no food for us. So when the elves came galloping on their horses, I decided to hunt down their food. A group of frightened deer ran ahead of the horses, and I heard the elves laugh out merrily into the spring. Childish anger spread through my body once more.

I swiftly leaped onto the nearest branch and shaded myself behind the leaves. I took out my bow and arrow and aimed for the largest deer I could find. It fell down, squeaking in confusion and fear. Surely a good kill. I grinned, took out another arrow and aimed again. Suddenly, the elf in the very front turned. His sharp eyes scanned the treetops, and our eyes met. Before I could leap, he raised his bow and pulled the arrow shot me in the leg, ripping through the flesh and made me gasp. The tip was iron and it pierced quite deep. The next thing I knew I grunted in agony and fell down the tree.

" There is ambush among the trees!" I heard an elf yell, and suddenly ten or so arrows were pointed straight at me. Their faces turned to confusion when all they saw was only a small elfling lying on the ground, threatening to cry. The elf who shot me had dark hair. He looked at me in a not-understanding manner that made me want to slap him on the face.

" Make way for the march warden!" someone yelled in the back, and the elves stood aside to form way for an elf. Supposedly, the one who was called march warden is in charge. " She's not an orc" He said. He knelt and reached for me. I did the most natural thing a child could do. I scrambled away and started to scream. Hopefully my brother would come find me, but before that I had to get rid of these elves.

" Oh, little one. Don't cry." He then turned to the other elves, who looked too stunned to make any reactions. " Are you all blind, my friends?" He turned to them in disapproval, "Put down your weapons! She's just an elleth."

On his words, as if he made the orders, they backed away. One even said he'll bring me some food. I didn't want food. My leg was bleeding and stinging. All I wanted was to bring the deer back to our tent. So I told him to give me back my deer and go away. I reached down to snap the arrow, but his eyes were a clear "no". For some reason, I chose to believe him. The wound indeed looked worse than it felt.

He sighed and shook his head. When he looked back at me, though it was hard to believe, I was suddenly not as angry as I was before. His hair was very long and golden. His eyes were very blue and kind, filled with the kind of wisdom and knowing that only someone who has lost something precious to his life would have. And I knew that he knew, that he saw the same thing in my eyes. I suddenly wanted to trust him, even though I haven't trusted any other person after the fire that burned my home down. I knew then that he might be a friend.

So I changed my mind and let him treat my wound. I still remember how his hands gently tended my leg, adjusting until I could lean on him and stand. Then they all smiled at me, those friendly faces that made me want to give in to their kindness. But all of a sudden I forgot.

" Thieves." I accused. " You stole our food"

The blond's eyes widened in surprise. " No one stole anything, little one. Not under my command."

I was glaring at him now. Finally, I found some words polite enough to describe the situation. And when I said them out loud, they sounded so unfamiliar it was almost sour. " You might not have done it one purpose, but there are others in these lands who need food as well. I hope you will consider it next time when you hunt."

To my surprise he took it seriously. " You speak no words of a child. I am deeply sorry for the inconvenience we have caused, and I would be more than honored to escort you home, little one."

I scowled at him. Do elves these days always act so ignorant and courteous?

" I don't have a home. I live in these woods and I have my brother and sister. Just give me that deer, and I don't want to see any of you any sooner."

" But what about your wound?" He gestured towards my leg and I groaned. I was so annoyed I felt that my head would combust. With my childish stubbornness I told him to go away. Which, as you might imagined, the elf refused and insisted to take me under the caring of his nation.

Our bickering had just begun, when the story took a dramatic turn. And among these lands, most commonly it would be some orcs to come and ruin the day. A battle horn blew from behind, and the elves all switched attention from me to what is behind us. Everyone turned, and the elf who was trying to tie a deer to a tree reached for his weapons. The deer pulled free of the ropes and started to escape. Unfortunate for him, he was running at me.

With a swift grab of its neck and a leap, I got my skinny body up and sitting on the deer. Opportunity already came and in full speed, I spread away from the elves. I needed to go back. We had to move.

With that I groaned in annoyance. Not again, I almost complained. I was starting to get used to the place. I looked back, and I saw the blond elf looking straight at me, glaring in a scolding way that made me shiver. He looked like my ada when I did something really stupid. He was too focused on the battle though, and could not deal with a runaway elfling.

I stuck out my tongue at him and speeded away.


	3. Chapter 3 Almost Dying

chapter 3. Almost Dying

Normally I would never try to ride a deer. Their legs would wobble and they couldn't carry anything more than myself on there backs. It quite a emergency situation, and after a few hundred meters of sprinting the deer could take it no more. As we were going downhill its knees buckled, and I tumbled face first into the dirt with the deer collapsing on me. This deer had the wits not to annoy me. Before I could fetch out an arrow it quickly ran away and sprinted out of sight.

After cursing, I got up on my good leg and dusted myself off. I had lost my deer. Grumpily I crossed my arms like a child would do. It was so pathetic that I left home to hunt, hunted down something, got hunted down and lost the prey I had hunted down. And not to mention the terrible wound on my thighs. I glared up at the sky, and I've heard enough stuff from my brother to know how to curse. It wasn't good to hear for a ten-year-old kid.

Day was still short. The sun was setting, and with dread I could almost hear the slashing of swords and clinging of armor. It certainly didn't make things better, and I knew I had to leave or hide. And pray that those pesky elves did a fine job holding them off. By then I was more annoyed than scared. Bless us elflings and our blind bravery.

Starting to rethink my situation I realized that I was stuck somewhere awkwardly in the middle of the way home, and either way it would be equally difficult and painful to get there. I could hop home on my good leg, which even my undeveloped brains knew wasn't practical. Or I could run home and expecting to have a limp leg all my life. When I reach home, either way it would be no use. I just hoped my siblings could handle the situation and move themselves. They could call a horse with the wonderful ability—"oh Valar how I wish I had it!"—my sister had with animals. Then they could get away, hopefully if the orcs have no horses.

But for me, I had no choice but to hide. With much effort I made my way to the tallest, thickest tree I could find. I was desperate. I started to climb that tree with my bare hands and only one leg. That was how desperate I was. When I almost reached the first brach, I reached up for it. Unfortunately, I forgot about my wounded leg. I found a foothold with my right leg and gave a kick; I howled in pain and fell like a rugged sack, then I hit the ground so heavily I temporarily blacked out in pain.

When I groaned and looked up, I scowled. It was getting dark. The sound was getting louder and closing in, so close that I could even make out what they were saying. " Got rid o'them," said one laughing cruelly, " the pretty blonde one ran away, place's clear."

My jaws dropped. No way could they get beaten… There were at least ten of them!

Then I understood it only meant that… There were a lot more then ten orcs. I quickly realized I'd be a dead elf. Very soon, very soon.

I silently said my death words: " I hate those creatures. I hope they all die. Painfully. I hope my brother and sister are alright. I hope I won't rest in peace and may my ghost haunt those orcs all their lives if I die."

Anger was what rose in my chest after despair. After that there was the determination so strong it made me do something terribly scary, but made no regrets for me throughout my whole life. I will die a fighter, not a coward. I might be the looser, but I will die knowing that at least I tried. It didn't come out so gloriously then. It was more like stubbornness— a child calling out grumpily to herself: " I don't want to die!"

I couldn't recall how I did that before the orcs arrived. I only know that every now and then there would be an ache in my leg, not too painful to distract me but noticeable still, and I would think that perhaps I was not completely healed. Or, sometimes worried, I would think maybe that one wound the march warden's men gave me, somehow indicated a much more conflicted life with them in the future.

—

I scanned my eyes through the crowd a few trees from mine, and I thought " How dare them settling down so close!" I was up in the tree, wounded leg perched uncomfortably on the branch as I knelt to blend in. There were at least twenty of them, each armed with huge jagged swords and knives. Usually it would have made my eyes shine at those weapons, but now I didn't dare to breathe. There was no blood on them, which probably meant the elves survived mostly. I wished no one cleaned their sword on the way.

I was planning to sneak away at midnight and find a place far enough for them to never find me. I would have more or less six hours to limp away, I prayed it would be enough. Caught up in thought, the mention of one word bought my attention back to what they were saying.

" Mordor…" An orc with a long scar across his ugly face mused, " Aye, we kill to help him rise. What are we gonna get for that?" he slammed his piece of meat down in his lap, assuming there was no plate and the meat seemed raw, I swear I saw bloodstains on his rags.

" Fool!" Another one sneered. " The white wizard is going to pay. If he doesn't, however," He stood up and threw his food aside, his face twisted with hate, " We are going to make him pay!"

The orcs roared and banged their weapons together. In black speech and the common tongue their thoughts of evil spread like wildfire across the woods. Birds flew away from their night's rest. Squirrels squeaked and scattered away, leaving no life except for the orcs. And me sitting in the tree, petrified. I did not understand why. Or how. I could barely understand a few words. Mordor. The white wizard. The master. Power. Destruction. It left a mark in my head that wouldn't go away. It sounded really bad.

Cold wind picked up a chill in the woods and I shuddered.

Suddenly an orc growled. " I smell elf." My heart dropped dead. I was dead.

They pounded their way around, trying to find out where the scent came from. I was too frightened to do anything but beg silently: " Please… Help me… Please…"

There was a grunt, and the thud of a body falling down. And so the crowd exploded. "Elves!" they screeched and unsheathed their weapons to face whatever that was coming at them. My mind went blank. What just happened?

And I crouched there watching from above. In the numb rolling sensation of fear the first thing I saw was an elf on a horseback, a bow in hand and a quiver on his back. He notched an arrow and it made the kill with such perfection it left me with one word: " Wow."

His hair was golden in the firelight, and flames flickered in his crystal blue eyes. Shadows were casted onto his features and it made him look fierce and taunting, completely different from the elf who had tended my leg with tenderness only hours before. He looked around for the next victim. He's the march warden, I thought, he's destined to guard and protect. But there was one thing he could do that other guards couldn't do. He was also destined to lead. Following him were another twenty elves, who shouted out their own battle cries as they fought. Their knives were quick. Their swords were graceful. Their arrows whistled through the air, but my eyes were dawned on the march warden. A thousand feelings rushed through me as I watched. Relief. Admiration. Envy. Gratitude. Trust… and another thousand more I couldn't describe. Warmth flooded through me, and I broke down in tears. Which I later found was ridiculous and I furiously wiped them off, continuing to watch.

After a few more minutes, it was clear the orcs were fighting a loosing battle. Then the nightmares started with a single orc. It was under my tree, the same orc that had the great sense of smell. It looked up, and it sneered. I tried to move, or at least dodge, but my leg was no use. It took no time for him to aim at me with his bow and arrow.

Time seemed to slow down before death. I saw the arrow leave its notch, and it was flying at me, aiming the heart. It's now or never.

I closed my eyes and jumped. The arrow ripped through the air, just missing the back of my neck. My blood ran cold in my veins.

I landed on my feet, and there were stars in my eyes from pain and hunger and the cold. There was something wet on my feet, and I realized once I touched it was blood. The wound teared open, flesh showing, and so deep I could see the bones. Then I found out that I was crying as I scrambled away uselessly from the orc.

It only smirked, and notched another arrow. " It shot me in the arm, pinning me to an exposed tree root that happened to be in the way. I gasped.

Those…

Another one shot me, this time on the other arm, and I cried out in mercy. I was pinned down to the ground with two arrows which penetrated my flesh. My vision was red. My voice was hoarse from all the screaming. But my mind was clear. He didn't mean to kill. He tortured for fun.

Evil…

Another one notched, and shot me on my good leg. I made a groan in agony but my body was on fire. I could barely make out the shape of the orc before me. It laughed. " Little elflings should know better than to spy on others. Your daddy should have told you that. You know too much already! "

Filthy…

A kick knocked the air out of my lungs. I tasted blood in my mouth.

I hate…

Another punch in the stomach made me gurgle. There was something thick and metallic in my mouth. My ears rang. I didn't know how much blood I had lost.

Orcs…

I could no longer separate one pain from another. It was generally pure agony. Hatred filled my mind and it only made the pain more vivid than ever.

Revenge…

The kicks and punches reduced down to background senses. My mind was blank. My thoughts were hazy through a fog of sleepiness. And I saw the filthy creature raise a dagger high over my chest. I braced myself for the last thing I'm going to feel before death. Tears ran down my cheeks. It shouldn't have been this way.

Pain washed everything red. There was so much red. My whole body was burning. Images reappeared in my mind. I remembered the way it used to be before it all went wrong. And in that demon fire I could hear screaming again. I was running down that forest path, hand in my mother's hand as my brother navigated our way out secretly. We dodged debris that were falling, in the flames it looked like hell. " Ada!" I was crying and struggling to keep up. An orc had plunged its sword straight into his stomach and left him there to burn.

The next thing I knew, something dark of a shadow was falling towering over me. And I was thrown forward. With my sister's bloodcurdling scream, my mother's body disappeared under a falling tree. Her hand stuck out from its trunk, motionless. Then we were running. The fires lapped at our feet as we sprinted away, and when I looked back, everything I had once known was no more.

Those creatures deserve to die a painful death. I gritted my teeth, unable to endure the pain. Though I won't be part of the revenge anymore.

But the blow never came. There was a thud, then a klunk. Then it was silent.

" I need help!" someone yelled in the distance. The reality seemed far away.

" Ada," I called out, though there was no sound that came out of my bloody lips. " I'm coming."

But there was suddenly something hovering above me. There were the eyes of the march warden, and the eyes of many others. There were blues, greens, golds and browns. It made me remember the summer I was born in: warm, gentle, and above all, live. The blue sky, green trees, the brown dirt path I used to run along, sunsets that dyed the treetops the most brilliant gold…

In that sudden boost of energy I forced open my eyes, even for just a little. I tried to move my lips but it turned out as trembling so weak it was unnoticeable. My unseeing eyes bulged and stared straight ahead, glaring at whatever came in front of me. I wanted to live. They have to know I'm still alive.

But the march warden looked at me with sad eyes and shook his head in grief.

" She's the elleth we shot by accident at daytime," he said in disbelief. " She suffered so much, little one. Only those creatures can manage such cruelty. Poor girl."

No! I wanted to scream, though no sound came out. I don't want to die! And my siblings, they need me. Desperately I looked for any action to make them know I still wanted to live. It was no use. Soon, darkness overpowered me, and I seemed to be locked in a deep slumber.

" There is no hope left." he said, with a hand on my forehead, " She has passed away. We were too late."

 **Hey there, I'm Eugene. Thanks a lot for reading this chapter.**

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	4. Chapter 4 Dying Waking Up

Chapter 4. dying, waking up

My last vivid thought was: " Ugh!" After that, I passed out from the pain.

There were pieces of words I caught, flickers of light that slipped through my half-open eyelids, and horrible agony in those times when I gained consciousness. I would pass out again, and somehow wake up again to the pain. Then I pass out. It happened several times on the way they brought my body back to Lothlorien, and each time it happened, I felt a little less of myself. There were parts of me slipping away, and I couldn't remember much. My consciousness was like a bubble floating above my head, and it felt so thin it could pop or just float away. Either way it didn't seem I could get it back. Thinking was what I could do, but it was slow, like how your thoughts are just before you fall asleep. It doesn't make any sense, but somehow it does. I don't know how to describe this. But after that, I could feel nothing. It felt drowsy, and I fell in to a deep sleep.

I had a long dream.

I was walking inside a hallway of some sort. Torches were flickering, casting shadows along the brick walls. I looked around the place where I was standing. The halls stretched along both sides, so long it was impossible to tell if there was an end or not. I didn't know what to do or where to go. The hallway was dimly lit, yet it did not scare me in the tiniest bit. The fires felt comforting, as if guiding the way and sending a message of welcome.

I went with my heart and I chose a random way to go. I had nothing to fear now, that I could no longer feel a thing. My fingers skimmed across the walls but felt nothing. I would not know that I did if i didn't see them touch the walls with my own eyes. My feet were bare, but they could not sense the ground when I tiptoed around. Then I realized I didn't cast a shadow across the floor, which was strange since there were so many on the walls. I started to worry as I walked. What am I now? Where is it? My clothes were tattered but my skin was complete. There was no pain.

I walked on for hours, or maybe days, I couldn't tell. The hallway grew wider and brighter and I could vaguely see a shape at the end. I broke off into a run. The whole place was hazy but so real. The vision wobbled as I ran, but it did not break and I did not wake up. It just grew clearer and clearer all they way, till finally, I reached a door which was twice as high as I was.

I didn't know what to do. " Open it," I thought, " Nothing can get any worse than being killed by an orc."

I reached for the wooden surface, but a voice started to ring inside my head. It was the voice of a woman, powerful and calm, yet with a hint of urgency in her words.

" Do not open the door, Lynca." It warned, " Or you should expect no return."

I held my hand back, and immediately pain shot up from my legs to my arms. I winced and doubled over. The vision dissolved back into darkness, my body returning to the burning agony.

—

" She is still alive?" Someone said from somewhere by my left. The voice was drowned, as if my ears were filled to the brim with liquid.

" She is," A woman said, this time from my right. " Yet we don't know for how long she may live on."

" Poor child," the man said, " How could she have lived with the poison on the blade? The broken bones and bleeding wounds? How will she live on in this shadow if she makes it through?"

" Then that is not for us to decide. She holds her fate on her own, and we can only do so much for her. And I have a feeling," There was a pause that seemed to last forever, " That she will not live an ordinary life."

Sure, I thought, my home was burned down and my family is lost. I almost got killed by an orc. I overheard them talking about something important and very evil. I don't think that counts as ordinary.

There was the voice again in my head. " Sleep," it said, " And heal, my dear child."

As if some spell had been spoken, I drifted back into unconsciousness. People said that I woke up just when I was starting to be forgotten my the people. I didn't know how long I slept.

In my coma state I could vaguely hear pieces of words and sentences. Voices praying. Voices trying to get me back to the light of day. But I didn't move even to the most moving words of elves around me. I could feel it. I could think in a very slow pace. Perhaps it took a week for me to figure that out. I was still alive in my soul, but my body was dead.

Yet I fought. I didn't fear the pain then. My hot blood battled with the poison that threatens to reach my heart, and I reckon it did a pretty good job. I could feel my fingertips a week later, the gentle spring breeze brushing against them through what I imagine a window. Then slowly, my hands too. The morning sun warmed them up so they were no longer freezing cold and numb. An insect landed on the left, which the healer hushed away shortly after. I felt it by the gentle hush of warm breath she left. I have never felt so peaceful in my life. I felt alive, and I was just an excited soul inside a broken body, waiting for its master to heal and wake. Just a few more days, I thought. Just a few more.

I was aware of a hand holding mine everyday, no matter what time. Sometimes it would hold mine gently in the morning breeze, sometimes grasp my fingers in the middle of the night when I felt the horrible pain in my bones and veins. Those were from the same hand, with slender long fingers and a slight roughness on the forefinger and middle finger. Those fingers would trace the veins on the back of my hand, sending shivers of joy down my arms. They were familiar, the tender touches.

" My leg wound," i thought, " Same person."

" Perhaps." I thought, using the least words I can.

" Fingers," I thought next, " Bow string."

Are dead people supposed to be thinking so logically? What a surprise, I must be mad.

" Just shut up and heal." I told myself.

And i did. I opened my eyes.

—

The light was too bright, far to bright for my sore eyes. It was like staring at the sun at midday in the middle of a hot summer. I sat up and almost croaked out a scream: " Let the curtains down for Valar's sake!" The healer beside me jumped up and ran to the curtains. She shut it with full force and almost took them down.

The healer looked pretty shaken. I knew why, even with my fourteen-winter-old mind. When she was given the job to "Guard the dead girl and see if she comes back to life", she must have thought it a joke. But when the girl did come back to life, she didn't half expect it. Guess she never saw a dead person sit up. I even grinned in amusement at her expression. Then I realized I could still taste blood on my lips. For a second I froze. Then I relaxed at my own foolishness.

My lips were chapped dry. My tongue was sticky and heavy in my mouth with the saltiness of blood and morning breath. I told her to bring me a glass of water, and she ran out of the room as fast as she could. I laughed when I heard the sound of tripping down the hallway.

Accustomed to the light, I looked around. It was a simple room with white walls and a window leading to a small balcony outside. I could see trees outside, swaying in the gentle breeze. A sense of giddiness rushed through me that made me want to jump out and leap in the branches.

" Don't even think about that," A voice grumbled from behind and I turned around. An elf was standing there with his armor on and, to my amusement, carrying a tray with food and water. The combination was so ridiculous I wanted to laugh. Then I thought it might be rude to laugh at someone like him.

" I'm glad to see you again, march warden," I grinned, trying to hold back the snickers.

" Of course you are, little one." He rolled his eyes and set the tray down.

This time I could not hold back the laughter any more. I'm alive.

 **Good news:**

 **Things will be happy here... For a while.**

 **No more blood-sheding... Maybe for a few chapters.**

 **I just realized that Lynca's childhood is a complete tragedy... I like tragedies.**

 **Bad news: (Spoil alert)**

 **Haldir will fall for a girl way too much younger than him it will make me feel uncomfortable writing about it...**

 **No tenth walker or what-so-ever...**

 **Legolas will be single as a springle...**

 **For most of the time Lynca won't be happy...**

 **And someone important who didn't die in the books will die.**

 **Leave comments so I can improve or change the direction of the story... Before it's too late to turn back.**

 **Thanks guys!**


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